


The Life and Times of Kurt Fucking Wagner

by tuungstenn



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuungstenn/pseuds/tuungstenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I just wanted to talk about Nightcrawler and things that have (or may have) happened to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How It All Started

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my friends! (and myself. sort of.)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+friends%21+%28and+myself.+sort+of.%29).



Azazel had good intentions when he snatched the child from the wrath of the ravine’s waterfall. He would take the child into his own custody when it had developed the teleportation powers he trusted it would inherit and was also old enough to not be terribly obnoxious and burdensome. When that time came he would use the child in his plot to wreak havoc and hopefully destroy the earth completely through dimensional manipulation, but all in due time. Perfectly good intentions.

What was going through Raven’s mind when she decided the best way to get rid of the boy was to catapult him into river’s unforgiving torrents? He didn’t rape her; this was all consensual, she proposed the idea before he did, she wanted a kid. It literally took no convincing whatsoever. Then she tries to kill it! The woman could be so damn unreasonable sometimes.

But whatever. He’d caught him and he loved her too much to hold a grudge. It didn’t matter as long as the baby was safe. Raven could take care of herself.

Now he was walking down a road, stepping as carefully as possible so as to not upset him from his slumber. He really didn’t know what he’d do if it woke up. Azazel shuddered at the thought. As far as he was concerned, crying children are worse than any shit anyone could ever deal with ever.

Azazel’s keen ears detected the car before he saw it. It was coming up the trail from behind him and his tail whipped back and forth violently as his brain flashed through its thought process. The reason he’d walked all this was so as to not upset the baby’s stomach with teleportation, but it didn’t matter if he shapeshifted- whoever was in that car would be suspicious of any person walking down a road in the middle of nowhere with an extremely young infant. He could see a hut on one of the many rolling Bavarian hills and it looked far too run down for anyone to be in it.

He didn’t know if it would make any difference, because he had never tried before, but he willed this port to be the smoothest he could muster.

Not to much surprise, it didn’t help and when the two exited the parallel dimension the newborn was lamenting his newfound nausea. Azazel groaned- he had avoided this for almost 4 hours but in the end it was inevitable.

Opening the door of the shack took a bit of work, but he was eventually able to break the door hinge in and found in old cot in the corner that he laid his jacket over before setting down the cacophonous bundle.

Knowing no strategy to stopping a baby’s cries other than let it sob itself to sleep, he exited the hovel and shut the door in an attempt to dilute some of the noise and give himself a moment to think.

Much to his vexation, the baby’s wails grew in volume when it realized it had been left alone. Azazel took a deep breath, gritting his teeth, willing himself not to storm back in and smother the damn thing. Instead, he sat down on the edge of the shack’s porch and thought. After a moment’s contemplation, he put his first two fingers against his temple. In all his time with mutants and super-beings, all the telepaths he had come across seemed to do it to increase or intensify brain power. Hell, he wasn’t a telepath, but maybe it could help him too.

Who would be willing to care for it for at least until it could run from danger itself? Better yet, a couple years more than that and it could teleport.

Azazel didn’t want it until it was, shrug, twenty or so. But he didn’t know of many accomplices of his that were exactly parental figures. It was kind of a big favor to ask someone, and it wasn’t because he didn’t want to raise it, he just knew he would do an awful job and it was better for the kid.

Urgh, why did Raven do this? Why couldn’t she just want to be its mother like she was supposed to? She was making this way more complicated than it needed to be.

There was no sense in blaming her though, he’d think of something…

“My god! Is that Satan?!”

Great. He thought he’d gotten away from the road.

Looking up from his intensive thinking, returning to the sound of soft baby sobs and, looking down, a line of caravans making their way through the hills rather than staying on the road. A woman was leaning out the window of her car pointing exaggeratedly at Azazel while others climbed out of their own trucks to take a look.

Why me… why today… why why why-

“Azazel? Azazel!”

Azazel’s eyes widened. “Margali?”

Sure enough, a bit down the road, Margali Szardos was handing a young girl to some other woman and jogging to meet him.

“Bozhe moy! Margali! Ah! I’m so happy to see you.”

“What are you doing out here? Is there a baby in there?”

Azazel’s smile faded. “Yes, well, humorous thing I happen to come across you, you wouldn’t happen to have any experience with children would you? Or just like them at all?”

Margali gave him a twisted smile. “I’m guessing you’ve gotten yourself into a predicament having to do with a child…?”

Azazel grunted an affirmative.

Margali watched him for a moment from the corner of her eye before letting herself into the hovel and approaching the bed and picking up the whining baby.

“How long did you leave it in here?”

“Probably… an hour or so. I’m not sure.”

Instead of berating him she just huffed. “Well when was it last fed?”

Azazel scrunched up his face. “Never, most likely, I’m pretty sure things moved from birth to angry mob quickly.”

Margali kept her plain demeanor, but Azazel could see the stricken expression underneath. She felt sorry for little thing.

“I trust you saw my own children out there?”

“You have your own? Wait, children- you have more than one?”

She snorted. “You’d know if you visited more often. Yes, a boy, Stephan, and a girl, Jimaine. More than I thought I’d ever have. Need this one taken off you hands?” she joked, holding the baby up to her face.

Azazel stared at her for a moment. This was too perfect. Suddenly Margali was a mother? He was not forcing her to be one but to just accept another into her brood?

“Actually, yes.”

Margali blinked in surprise. “I- oh,” the tiniest pause, then, with a smile, “Alright, but you owe me. I was hoping you’d let me get some food in him anyway.”

Azazel beamed. “Really?! I can’t thank you enough, believe me, this is much better for him-”

She laughed, just quietly enough to not upset the baby. “I can tell… just, promise me the next time you’re taking care of a baby you won’t just leave it alone in a tiny shack and sit outside and ignore it.”

“If no shacks, then I suppose I’ll have to rent a hotel room for the occasion.” he chuckled as she glared at him before smirking herself.

“It’s a boy?”

“Yes.”

“Does he have a name?”

“No, I suppose as his new caretaker you can have that privilege.”

“Hm… before Jimaine was born, I told myself if I had another boy I’d name him Kurt. So I suppose his name will be Kurt.”

Azazel watched contentedly as Margali stroked the fine hair on the bridge of Kurt’s nose softly. She looked back up and arched an eyebrow. “But you owe me! This is too big a favor to go without some payback!”

Azazel bowed theatrically, tail flipping into a question mark behind him. “But of course. Anything you ask, my dear woman, whenever you ask it.”

Margali curtsied. “I’ll hold you to that.” When he stood upright again, “I wish we could visit longer, but I fear my fellow circus members may be growing worrisome, and I think it’d be best if I found Kurt something to eat.”

Azazel nodded and kissed her hand, picking his coat off the cot.

“Good luck, Margali. Neyaphem children are an especially big handful, to my knowledge,”

“Wait, how-?” but he had already disappeared with the stench of brimstone.

The noise of the bamf awakened Kurt, reminding him of his hunger, and he began to cry again, and Margali sighed deeply as she exited the hut, her new son struggling in her arms, tail thrashing against her arms.

She returned to the parade of caravans, where everyone instantly crowded her.

“Margali, who was that?”

“Was it really the Devil?”

“There is a blue baby in her arms-”

“Everyone please!” she shouted. She felt Stephan and Jimaine cling against her legs. “That was not the devil, and this baby is not devil-spawn. That man was my friend, and this is his son. I’m going to take care of him. For a while.” she paused, feeling every eye on her. Her two biological children stared up at her, clinging to her skirt, worried questioning in their eyes. “I’d appreciate it if we could park the trucks for a moment before we continue.”

Margali cursed. The circus’ baby boom had been just a few years prior, now no one had any breast milk to offer and they were nowhere near any place that would sell baby formula.

Guilt ran through her- the first thing she was going to let this baby ingest in its entire life was a potion. Not a mother’s milk, full of nutrients and love, some kind of black-magic-induced-elixir, specially brewed by Margali Szardos. She grimaced as she poured the liquid from the tiny pot into an old bottle, screwed the rubber top on, and offered it to him.

Not to much surprise, it was not what he was looking for and he began to cry harder when she attempted to just pry it between his lips.

Eventually all she can do, in fear of his starving to death, is forcing it down his throat until he gives in and starts to drink it on his own.

She sighed with relief, turning to face her older two children.

“Mom, what is that baby for?” Five-year-old Stephan asked.

She chuckled at the childish question. “I’m not sure how to answer that, but he is your brother now and you are to treat him as such. You too, Jimaine, alright?”

They both nod before she kneels to present their new sibling. They both jump back in surprise, Jimaine letting out a small gasp.

“Mama, is he sick?” the three-year-old whispers.

“No, Jimaine, this is just the way he is, there’s no need to be afraid. Look at his little ears.” She tries to make this new proposal as likable and charming as possible.

Jimaine carefully pulls the blanket back a bit to get a better look at Kurt’s curved, pointed ears. Stephan leans in as well, and as she hoped, they smile in new approval.

“Whas’ his name?” the young girl asks, her eyes shining.

“Kurt,” Margali smiles, pleased with her children’s quick acceptance.


	2. Juvenescence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kurts a doof

Margali would argue with any person that said there was a more fascinating child to raise than Kurt.

To start the magnificent adventure of learning how to best care for the new baby, Margali found that he was naturally nocturnal. Of course, this made the daytime quite easy, almost like there was no new baby, besides the few times she would get him and feed him a bottle of formula.

But when night time rolled around, he was awake and waiting for someone to spend time with him. Margali wished that meant she could just bring him to bed with her, but unfortunately he needed to be bounced and talked to and interacted with.

She didn’t know what to do because she had a job in the circus, and eventually decided she would just keep Kurt up all day once, hopefully flipping his internal clock.

But it didn’t really work for anything other than dampening Kurt’s usually bright mood.

It was clear he was born to be moving at night. If you didn’t get him to bed before the sky was dark (and of course, that was ridiculous) you could wake up around 11 o’clock and see him staring intently out into the night, up at the stars, the silver moon reflecting in his golden eyes.

Margali felt like she was keeping him from something he belonged to, but she also knew he was a person and belonged with other people, and that meant being awake during the day.

So when it was obvious he didn’t need nearly as much sleep as most children, after staying up hours into the night and showing no setbacks in stamina or mood, she left him toys to play with in his crib at night to bide the time he seemed to need to spend conscious during the night.

He crawled on his knees for what seemed a day and a half at most before he found that his feet underneath him was a much more effective means of transportation.

That wasn’t to say he started walking, at least not in a bipedal fashion; he walked using his arms too, but it didn’t look awkward at all, his body was clearly built for the purpose. Margali knew this was not something Azazel could do, his knees did not look like his son’s, and she worried that should more mysterious natures of Kurt appear that she needed answers to, her friend may not have them, as they would most likely be mysterious to him as well.

A few times she tried to help him onto his hind legs, holding his three tiny digits in her own five, urging him to try walking without quadrupedalism, but he whined and pulls against her hands until she let go. He was still too young to convince with words so she didn’t know what else to try for the time.

Rather than growing out walking on all four of his limbs as Margali hoped, he instead graduated to crawling on the walls as well as the floor. Margali shrieked in surprise the first time she witnessed it- her baby was making his way towards the stove (which was on, as it was broiling tea) via spider crawling across the room without touching the floor. She quickly pulled him off, placing him in his crib, only to be disheartened in finding that he could easily escape that. He made his way, head first, over the rails of the bed and back down before stopping at her feet, and reaching flailing his hands up at her with a smile, making high-pitched grunts, indicating he wanted her to pick him up.

For a few years, they kept a grate over the top of his crib at night. He was too young for her to trust him to not hurt himself while playing without supervision, so he had to make due with the space he had in his, well, technically it was a cage but there wasn’t any reason to not just keep calling it a crib.

Luckily for Kurt though, Margali was a woman with a lot on her mind, and would often wake up during darker hours, or simply stay up late, and allow Kurt to play more freely while she brooded on her thoughts.

Besides the abnormalities, he was a very easy baby; he was always smiling and laughing, rarely did he cry, even over things babies had every right to be upset over. These likable characteristics developed into him being an amazingly well-mannered toddler, still too young to have a clear sense of right and wrong. He copied Stephan’s every action and habit, instantly making his adoration for his new brother obvious. Margali watched with amusement as Kurt allowed Jimaine to pull dresses over his head and be the newest addition to her group of dolls, and when it was long enough, tie ribbons and clip barrettes into his hair. It took a lot of the worry off of Margali’s shoulders. He may be difficult to bring up for others’ prejudice and his difference in appearance, but she could tell discipline would hardly be a problem- untaught accommodation and sweetness were in his nature.

****

The segment of Kurt’s babyhood that included him teething was a whole new story though. The misery in his mouth as razor sharp fangs pushed their way through his gums made him irritable as well as bite, chew, and gnaw on everything. Both night and day were adorned with on and off whines and cries of helpless pain and any relief his foster mother wished she could provide him with was in vain; more orthodox infants couldn’t demolish a teething ring in seconds, leaving them thirty pieces of rubber for them to choke on. While Kurt masticated the small armchair of their trailer-truck, including the wooden arms, Margali carefully warned her children of the dire consequences of not putting whatever they didn’t want destroyed out of Kurt’s reach.

But the unreliability of young children brought disaster and it wasn’t long before Jimaine left a doll on the floor…

…her most prized doll, the one she had received for her birthday just two days before.

Margali entered their small home to a rather distressing situation.

Jimaine was sitting on top of seven-month-old Kurt, who would probably have been screaming and crying as well if there were any breath in his lungs as the four-year-old crushed him, pulling his tail.

“I HATE YOU KURT! I HATE YOU AN’ I HOPE YOU DIE-”

“JIMAINE!”

She threw her daughter off of her baby, body flooding with relief when his eyes begin to shine brightly again and he took a huge breath, beginning to cry, before he seemed to find it too exhausting and focused on breathing instead, curling his little tail tenderly between his legs.

Jimaine, on the other hand, is having no trouble crying, holding some of the many pieces of her recently deceased doll.

“Jimaine!” you shout. “Do you realize you could have killed him?!”

It seems ironic after she just listened to her say that was what she wanted, but she’d been a mother long enough to know that children don’t know the severity and finality of death.

Once she’d gotten Kurt to fall into a fitful sleep, she returned to her daughter, who’s eyes remained red and puffy but she had stopped shedding tears.

“I’m sorry. I really really really really-”

“It’s alright,” the mother sighed. “You’re alright, and Kurt’s alright, so everything’s alright.”

Margali pulled her into her lap, and neither said anything for a while.

“We can get you another doll, but we cannot get another Kurt.”

The message is clear and the little girl’s eyes begin to flood, and she begins to cry softly, apologizing profusely through sobs.

Margali soothed and rocked her until she fell asleep as well.

****

She purchased the same doll, but kept it in a friend’s trailer, and gave it to Jimaine when all of Kurt’s teeth had grown in.

****

*

****

Kurt didn’t feel as though he truly fit in with any of the other children at the circus.

It had nothing to do with the fact that he looked any different than them; many “freaks” were in the circus, and abnormalities were regarded in a completely positive fashion.

The problem was that Kurt was stuck in this strange middle zone between all the other

children. Most of the boys at the circus were quite a few years older than Kurt, and they no

longer engaged in imagination games. The girls were the ones playing pretend, and as much as Kurt adored Stephan, sports were boring to him so he stuck with the opposite sex. And this wasn’t a problem at all either, he loved girls.

Sadly, he found that his difference in age and stature often pushed any decisions in what kind of pretend game they would be playing, or even what person he’d be. If it even was a person.

“Kurt can’t be the dad, he’s too little! He can be the dog or the cat.” One girl declared.

To Kurt’s slight disappointment, they were once again playing possibly the most boring kind of imagination game there was- “House.” There were no pirates, or robbers, or cowboys, or ninjas, you plainly acted out the kinds of situations a family (that wasn’t in the circus, mind) would do, day to day. Kurt found it slightly asinine, but it was better than sports.

“Sorry, Kurt.” Jimaine said simply. Kurt was never really sure how she felt about him playing with her group of friends. Throughout the games she would forget, but sometimes, though she didn’t say anything, she didn’t seem to think well of her baby brother crashing the scene, since he was kind of an attention-seeker. Playing the role of family pet or not, he’d find a way to become the star of show, declaring his description of some dramatic feat he would accomplish throughout the story.

On this run, Kurt had been shooting to be the father of the family that made a trip to the local bank, only to save it from a mass robbery and possibly be given the key to the city, but the majority seemed to have decided against the first step of making this scenario possible.

“But when I’m the dog, I don’t get to talk!” he explained the problem, considering how he’d make his speech of selfless acceptance of said key to the city if he were a dog, that in extension, could not speak.

“You make a good cat, though! You’ve got the right tail, and you can walk on all fours perfectly.” The girl closest to Kurt’s age, barely two years older than him, tried to convince him this was a good idea.

“Yeah, you make a better cat than a dad or brother- you make too much crazy stuff happen.” a third girl added.

“It would be better for a dad to be hero of the town than a cat!” Kurt cried emphatically, and quickly raised himself to two legs. Too fast for his remarkable balance, or maybe for no reason other than he’d never done it before, Kurt pinwheeled his arms for a half a second before falling on his butt in front of all of the girls.

They all giggled, not to humiliate him, it was simply funny to children’s sense of humor that someone had fallen on their rump, but Kurt quickly spun around, and made a beeline for the trailer-truck.

Kurt slammed the door open, too debased to see that the curtains in the small window on the door was shut- the sign that his mother was with a customer.

Before he could hear either of the two say anything, he was out again, rerouting himself to the forest the circus was making camp next to.

He scrambled up a tree, wrapping an arm around the tapering top of trunk and wanting to cry but couldn’t help but stop himself continually as he reminded himself it was a stupid thing to cry over. He also felt upset because now when he returned to the trailer for the night, he was going to get a lecture from his mother about being more observant, that interrupting was rude, that he was going to get himself in trouble for being careless all the time, bluh bluh bluh.

“Kurt!”

Kurt jumped so violently he almost fell on again, but caught himself and looked down to see Jimaine waving up at him.

He made his way back down the tree and after greeting her, couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact.

She smiled at him, then pushed her hair behind her ear embarrassedly before rushing through the words so fast Kurt almost didn’t understand, “Sorry about all that back there. I should have, um- I should’ve, maybe, uh, stood up for you.”

Kurt raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in astonishment.

“I should’ve told them to let you be dad. And, well, I think the stuff you put in the games makes them a lot more fun. Er, just so you know.”

Her face reddened as she dug the end of her capezio slipper into the ground.

Kurt’s tail became erratic and whipped his ankles as it lashed around his feet. “Thanks… maybe, we could get them to let us play pirates sometime.”

“Or if they say no, we’ll just play it ourselves!” Jimaine said proudly.

“Yeah!”

While Kurt trotted next to his sister as she skipped, he decided he’d ask his mother for a little help walking on two appendages instead of four.

Maybe so he could look at Jimaine more easily when they ran together.

 

*

****

As Kurt and Jimaine became closer and closer, he began to see her less and less as she began to train in acrobatics.

Usually it was Stephan’s habits that Kurt wanted to mimic, but Sabu teaching Jimaine was, he had to admit, much more intriguing than anything Stephan had ever done. Margali had forbidden Kurt to ever getting on the tightropes or trapeze, in fact she had advised all of her children to stay out of the big tent if possible.

When Jimaine began training she stayed on the floor. Kurt figured it could be weeks, or even months before she was allowed to start working on the real equipment.

But that tightrope had his name on it. After a whole week of staring at it whilst he observed Sabu helping Jimaine flip through the air off a springboard, he could no longer resist.

Early sunday morning, about a half hour before Sabu’s lessons began, he crawled his way up the vast pillar, ignoring the ladder, and stood on the small platform, breathing fast and shallow in nervousness.

Margali said everyone found their place in the circus. Everyone found the part of the extravaganza they were meant to be in, the perfect talent to contribute to the show.

And Kurt knew, as soon as he had his fingers and toes wrapped around the cord, tail erect for optimum balance, standing at least 50 feet above the ground.

He didn’t let it go to his head that this was easy for him, and though he sped up towards reaching the other side, he was still very careful with his footing.

He turned straight around, jumping right back on with exhilaration, holy cow, it was so much fun, he could do it all day!

But it wasn’t as impressive since he was keeping his balance so low. It had taken almost a year, for starting so late, but Margali had eventually succeeded in helping him be able to move on two legs. Kurt realized he was slightly embarrassed because of it- he had no problem with moving quadrupedally, but the fact that he had been so slow in finally achieving the quality of walking like a normal human made him feel like he was stupid, like he had been the last to learn how to read.

Simply, he knew it would be much more of a feat to walk across on only his feet.

In the middle of the tightrope, he ever-so-carefully removed his hands from the chord. He

had a  tail for Pete’s sake, the ultimate form of equilibrium, no need to be afraid.

Just as he’d seen in the shows, Kurt held his arms out straight, even though he didn’t really feel it was necessary, this was simple for him, and he began to walk across to the platform he’d started on…

“KURT! GET DOWN FROM THERE THIS INSTANT!”

Kurt unintentionally let out a small shriek of surprise- Sabu and Jimaine had entered the big tent through its giant door flaps, and Sabu had seen him, he’d been caught.

The startlement of the shout made him jump so violently he lost his astonishing balance and Jimaine screamed as Kurt toppled over himself. The net was not strung taught underneath, Kurt was surely going to break his neck and be dead in an instant.

But that wasn’t what happened. Kurt’s tail caught him. Sabu and Jimaine stared from below, holding their breaths. Kurt then swung his arms up and pulled himself back onto the rope, trotting across to the platform, ignored the ladder again, snaking his way down the pillar, and reached the feet of Sabu, slowly bringing his eyes up to meet the adult’s and smiling sheepishly.

Sabu took a deep breath before saying, with glaring intensity, “You should hope I don’t tell your mother about this.”

“Please don’t.”

“I suppose I won’t because after Margali wrang your skinny neck, she’d get mine too for letting something happen to you. For now, I will not tell. Consider me holding this over your head from now on.”

Kurt bit his lip, catching his tail with his hand before it moved between his legs in fear.  “How long have you been doing this?” Sabu asked, mostly losing the strictness in his

tone.

“I haven’t. Ever done it before, I mean.”

The master aerialist’s eyebrows raised in astonishment. “Are you being honest?”

“Yes! It’s pretty easy, actually!” Kurt beamed, forgetting his fear of punishment.

****

It was that day Kurt became the superstar of Sabu’s aerial act. Sabu was a friend of Margali’s, and was well acquainted with Kurt, but never thought Kurt’s graceful way of moving at such a young age meant he was inhumanly flexible.

Sabu didn’t mean to favoritize Kurt, but it was hard to not to. He did not advance faster than the other children; he was able to move in ways children, that any other human, couldn’t if they tried.

It was quickly organized for Kurt to be put in an act before Jimaine and quite a few other children that had started practicing the trapeze and tightrope before him were ready. It was one of the biggest crowds the circus had attracted in a while- people from a few towns over had come to see the demon boy doing his stunts.

In the dressing trailer, Kurt was being helped into a extravagant leotard decorated with purple and red rhinestone, artificial pearls, and a lot of glitter. To his slight discomfort, they lined his tail with jewels using body-safe glue. They styled his hair and as a final touch, decorated his face in cirque designs, matching his costume’s colors.

“Wow,” Jimaine said softly. “You look very pretty, Kurt.”

“Thank you.” he replied shyly.

“I just came to lead to around to the back entrance of the tent. There’s a special way to get there, so the crowd doesn’t see you.”

They stayed silent until they were backstage, waiting for Kurt’s signal to show himself.

“This all happened so fast, huh?” Jimaine said.

“Jimaine.” Kurt looked into her eyes with all the sincerity he could muster. “I didn’t mean to steal your circus talent. I’m sorry.”

She giggled at his attempt to be so serious. “It’s okay- it’s not just my circus talent, it’s a lot of peoples, yours especially. And I’m glad you get to be in the show! I think you were born to do this.”

Her eyes shone with happiness and Kurt smiled back at her.

Kurt’s signal was given and one of the supervisors waved their hand at him to get going.

“Good luck!” Jimaine chirped, holding her hands around his tapered ears for a moment to give him a quick smooch just between his eyebrows.

Still in shock, Kurt was shoved by the administrator into the bright lights of the show.

****

As soon as he finished his act, he was pulled out of the light again. Kurt’s was the last act before the finale of the whole show that was done by Sabu and some female flyer, and he would get his cheers during the all-around aerialist applause at the end.

It was a letdown and a relief that Jimaine wasn’t still backstage.

“Devil boy, go! Finale’s over.” someone instructed.

He ran out and jumped off the springboard placed in the stage floor where the crowd couldn’t see it, making an impossibly high jump and flip over his mentor and his partner like they had practiced, taking a bow so low his nose almost touched the floor.

Kurt’s tail curled in joy as the crowd clapped, even whistled, a few calling out his poster name of  “Blue Demon.” Sabu knelt down next to his ear for a moment, saying, “Kurt, they love you!”

Kurt couldn’t have stopped the display of his dangerous teeth to save his life; he smiled so widely you could see his molars.

“What was it your mother calls you?- Oh, yes-”

Sabu quickly lifted Kurt to stand on his shoulder, shouting to the crowd.

“HE’S NOT JUST ANY BLUE DEMON! GIVE IT UP FOR THE INCREDIBLE NIGHTCRAWLER!!!”

The crowd renewed its cheering.

Kurt was mortified. Europe would now remember him by the nickname he had earned as a baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was writing so much of this fic besides what i needed to post next. hopefully i'll go faster now since i have so much material now. but probably not.  
> hopefully tho this is gonna take waaaaay longer than i want it to if i only do one chapter a month  
> also i was too lazy to revise this so if there's tons of fuckups im sorry im sure you're smart enough to figure it out


	3. Juvenescence Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that didnt take long lol

When Stephan turned ten, he told Margali that he wanted to pierce one of his ears.

Margali said no.

Stephan was angry, but he was scared of the repercussions, and decidedly did nothing.

Until Kurt reminded him of how naive his brother was.

Kurt adored Stephan, copied everything he did, and told everyone he liked the same things Stephan did. This annoyed Stephan to hell and back until he realized he could use this to his advantage. He wanted to make his mother upset, and the best way to get to her was through Kurt.

Margali babied Kurt endlessly. Stephan knew she was trying to fill some kind of metaphorical love meter inside of Kurt to prepare him to the harshness it was inevitable he’d face as an adult.

But this made things easier than taking candy from a baby.

Not Kurt as a baby though, he had a grip of iron if you gave him anything sugar-filled.

“Stephan, why do you want to get an earring?” Kurt asked him one evening as the three children played with rollie-pollies in the dirt.

“Because, it would be the coolest thing ever!” Stephan threw his hands on his hips, careful to bring Kurt’s attention to the words.

It did not fail. Stephan could instantly read W-A-N-T in his youngest sibling’s eyes instantly.

“Y’know, Mom may not let me but she’d probably let you.”

Jimaine snorted. “Why-?” but was cut off by Stephan elbowing her.

“Because,” he growled at her, before turning back to Kurt, “You’re a star performer! Mom would agree you need to look really groovy.”

Kurt was thoroughly convinced at this point. “When can we do it?” he chirped.

“How about tomorrow? The dressing trailer should have plenty of room in it while the grown-ups are eating dinner, so we can do it then.”

Gullible five-year-old Kurt began to race around their truck in excitement, but Jimaine, clever for the age of eight, only looked at her older brother distrustfully.

*

Stephan pulled the door open to the trailer that held all the make-up and costumes of the circus quietly and let his brother and sister in before closing it behind him.

“Ready, Kurt?” Stephan said while he shuffled around for the needed utilities.

Kurt nodded his head happily.

<><><><><>

Kurt shook his head unhappily.

“Stephaaannn… I don’t think I want to do this anymore.” Kurt whimpered, feeling his stomach flip as he watched Stephan hold a needle over a lighter and Jimaine numbed his left earlobe with an ice cube.

“Don’t worry, Kurt, it’ll only hurt for a second, I promise,” Stephan assured flatly, concentrating on keeping the metal over the flame.

Kurt nodded nervously.

When Stephan turned off the lighter and walked toward him with the white-hot needle, Kurt sat upright from his horizontal position quickly, but got control of himself when Jimaine offered her hand and, accepting it, laid down again.

“One… two…”

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his clammy hands.

“Three!”

Kurt released a shriek so high he would look back on this day with embarrassment until he was 30.

“AAAAHHHH! I’M SORRY! I thought it went all the way through!-”

Before Stephan could right this wrong, Kurt was in a frenzied panic and thrashing his way out from under both of them and ripping the scorching needle out of his ear, making the situation approximately four times worse and tearing his earlobe.

He crashed out of the trailer, right into Margali.   
“Hello, Liebste- oh dear- what happened to you???”

Kurt threw himself around her knees. “Mama… look at my ear…”

“AHH! STEPHAN DID THIS TO YOU?”

Kurt’s hysteria finally stopped at hearing the rage in his mother’s voice.

“He is in so much trouble-” she grabbed Kurt and, stuffing him under her arm, took him back to the truck to see to his affliction.

****  
  
  
  


After much distress on Margali’s and screaming on Kurt’s part over putting alcohol on the wound, Kurt soon had a bandage as well as a small hoop earring of Margali’s in place on the side of his head.

To her dislike, she had agreed on Kurt’s request to have something to show for all the pain.

“There’s no point in having one if you don’t actually want it. Why not just let it heal?...” she said, while wrapping his head in a bandage to keep the gauze in place around his ear.

“I’ve wanted an earring too, but I was going to wait until I was older to ask since I knew you would say no.” Kurt responded intelligibly.

He never failed to blow her away with his prodigiousness.

“Please don’t be mad at Stephan.”

“I have to-”

“He’s just trying to get your attention towards what he wants.”

Margali stared at him. “You knew he was doing this just to get back at me?”

“Yes,” Kurt nodded, staring at his feet and blushing. “But I can’t seem to help myself when he wants to do something with me…”

Before Margali could get anymore confused over the five-year-old’s precociousness, Jimaine came in.

“Where is Stephan?”

“Hiding.” Jimaine said, kicking off her shoes.

“Where.”

“In the driving cabin.”

Margali headed off.

“Is your ear okay?”

“Yes. Mother let me keep an earring.”

“Stephan is dumb. Now you just have what he wants.”

Kurt smiled nervously. “I hope he is not mad at me…”

Jimaine rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “You’re dumb too.” she turned to walk towards their bunk bed.

“What! What’s that supposed to mean?!” Kurt cried, gamboling after her as she climbed into bed.

“You’ll understand when you’re older, like me.” she said in an exaggeratedly whiny, deep voice- mocking Stephan. Then, returning to her usual voice, “You should probably get in bed or Mom’ll be mad at us too when she comes back.”

Kurt scaled the wall and curled up in his own hammock above Jimaine’s. He supposed this whole state of affairs had ended up in him having a cool pirate earring.

*

“Get up, Kurt! Get up, get up, get up! Look at the snow!” Jimaine cried.

Kurt pulled the blankets over his head. He had had a midnight show the night before and his nocturnal habits were acting up as well.

“C’mon! Just look at how deep the snow is!”

A small peek on his part was enough to give Jimaine something to grab onto. She grabbed his hand that was pulling the blanket back and yanked him out of bed.

“It’s the perfect consistency,” she explained, as they put on layer after layer to protect themselves from the wet and cold. “It’s actually soft this year!”

“Don’t forget your tail sweater, Kurt,” Margali said while she packed away her fortune-telling table and set-up; there’d be no customers while the weather was like this.   
Kurt groaned inwardly. As he grew older, he grew more and more conscious about the tail sweater; no one had ever said anything about it, but in his eyes, it was the most idiotic thing thing he thought he could wear.

“What, do you want to get frostbite on it again? What if you had to amputate it?”

“Alright, alright! I’m putting it on.”

Kurt’s impeccable fashion sense escaped his mind for the while after they lifted the back truck door to throw themselves into the fluffy whiteness.

Jimaine was right- the snow had a much better consistency this year; last year’s winter was unforgiving- the snow had been sleety and crystalline and was just painful to play in.

This winter, Kurt felt like he was he was rolling through cotton.

He and Jimaine borrowed trash can lids and sled down the larger heaps of snow. When Stephan came back from whatever job he’d been doing early that morning, they had a snowball fight that ended in Kurt and Jimaine taking turns having Stephan toss them into the whiteness.

Kurt couldn’t have been happier to be alive.

*

On a rather fateful night the following spring, the night before the circus would be moving on to their next destination. Kurt’s keen ears had no problem picking up the sounds of Stephan sneaking out of the truck.

Gracefulness is next to stealthiness, so following him was easy.

Once they were a ways into the forest, Kurt asked, “Where are you going?”

“Kurt!” It didn’t take long for Stephan’s startlement to turn into pissed-off-ed-ness. “Go back to the truck! And if you say anything to Mom, I swear I’ll cut off the few fingers you have!”

Stephan’s words were so cutting that Kurt took a few steps back.

“Why would you say that-”

“Oh wait, it’s impossible for you to not go tattle-taling to her, I forgot.”

“I’m not a tattle-tale!” Kurt’s voice instantly gained volume in its defiance.

“Yes you are!” Stephan’s five-years-older voice yelled louder and much more intimidatingly. “And a show-off and a cry-baby! Do you wanna know why she lets you always have your way and gives you whatever you want?”

“She doesn’t-”

“It’s not because she loves you! It’s because she feels bad for you!”

Kurt wasn’t just upset- he was confused now.  
“You’re not her kid, Kurt! Your mom- your real mom left you to die as soon as she saw you. Because nobody wants a kid that looks like you-”

“Stop it!” Kurt screamed.

“What?” Stephan laughed. “Telling you the truth? Are you really stupid enough to not already have figured this out?-”

Kurt shoved him as hard as he could, which resulted in pretty much nothing.

Stephan’s riposte knocked Kurt into the ground.

At that point, Kurt was going to give up and crawl back to the truck, but then Stephan stomped on his tail.

Kurt was livid and instantly had his recently-grown adult fangs sunk into Stephan’s arm.

Stephan was screaming and it took a few strikes to the face to the head to get Kurt off, and as soon as he did he kicked Kurt in the gut and ran back to the truck.

As soon as Kurt thought he wasn’t going to throw up, he ran too. In the opposite direction.

After running what he deemed far enough, he sat down and started thinking about everything Stephan had said and realized he was right- Kurt was dumb for not realizing any of this before.

At that moment he heard Margali calling his name quite a ways away.

He was never going back; they didn’t care about him- he knew it.

He had heard the phrase people used of ‘running away and joining the circus’ but now he had just run away from the circus, so he didn’t know where to go.

He was making his way through the Black Forest, running as fast as he could (which was pretty fast), afraid Margali would catch him and confront him.

Even though he felt convinced that they didn’t love him or care about him anymore, he knew Margali would try to follow him, and he didn’t want her to. Who knew what she’d do to him for biting her son like that.

Her actual son.

He tried to move through the parts of the forest with the thickest trees while being mindful to stay moving in the opposite direction of the circus. He knew which direction they were heading next and if Margali couldn’t find him before they left, then good, they’d never have to see his ugly, useless face ever again.

Thinking this self-loathing thought, thinking about how, according to Stephan, that was what everyone had thought of him for the entire six years of his life, made Kurt’s eyes burn with hot tears and inspired him to move even faster.

He had been running for almost two hours before he collapsed on the ground, chest heaving and muscles burning. If he was so inadequate he’d like to see a normal human six-year-old pull off a marathon like that.

What was he going to do? All he had were the clothes on his body, and even though that included a sweater, it wasn’t much to go off of.

Worse off, it started to rain.

For a few short moments, it felt good on his sweating skin after his run, but then he was sure he was going to freeze to death.

As Kurt added up the events of the day, he found that the sum was that the universe hated him, and so, without using his hands to lower himself, he dropped his face into the mud and cried.

He wasn’t sure how long he did that before he finally lifted his head, taking a deep breath. Now he was cold, wet, and his entire front was covered in mud.

He then decided with dramatic flourish that he was going to lay his head back down and die with the most likely nonexistent dignity he possessed, so the rain could bury his hideous body in mud, hopefully no one would ever find it, and thus would end his existence.

All of this may have happened if he hadn’t spotted the only building in a many-miles radius, a small little structure with a bell tower.

Knowing that it was there made it difficult to convince himself to continue his process of death. Maybe if no one lived there he could be a hermit for the rest of his days, never darkening another doorway with his unsightly self.

It was somewhat difficult making his way up the hill; the stone path was lost under slippery mud and he scraped his hands and knees a few times catching himself.

Because of his exhaustion and slipperiness, he could barely open one of the two massive doors, and once he closed it behind him he slumped against the wood, completely worn-out.

But looking around his new home’s atmosphere brought some life back into him. He noticed now that the windows were colored, and his mind swam at the wonder he imagined when light went through them. The entire place was dark besides candles on an altar in the front. Again, the theme of beautiful colors showed itself- the candles were intricate in shades of pink and purple and a silver cover hung over the table.

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice called from a hallway in the corner, and if the ceiling weren’t so high, Kurt knew he’d be attached to it. He leaped down the steps, back to the rows and rows of benches, hoping whoever was there wouldn’t find him in the dark.

Margali had told him many times to never show himself voluntarily to someone who wasn’t part of the circus- he wasn’t sure why, but he knew it had to do with his appearance.

“You don’t need to hide, I mean no harm. Are you lost?”

Kurt was lost- in many ways, including how to answer.

The man looked very old and wore a long layered white robe. He held a candle towards Kurt, trying to get a look at the boy, but Kurt always moved back further.

Soon he gave up and sat in the pew across the aisle from where Kurt was hiding. He opened a thick book and, holding his candle over it, got comfortable, and Kurt could see that he wasn’t going to move for a while.

When he did come out, the man tried to look nonchalant for a moment before sputtering, “My goodness! You’re covered in mud, my boy!”

The mud-covered one nodded solemnly.

“Would you like me to show you the washroom?”

Another somber nod.

“Well, right this way then. I believe we have some donated clothes you might want to change into?” he didn’t look back to see if Kurt responded.

Kurt followed him obediently across the room and down the hall to an old fashioned bathroom. Behind him, the old man opened a large closet and handed him sweatpants, a size XXXXXXXXXXXL flannel shirt, and a towel.

“There you go.”

Kurt, not wanting to take his eyes off of him, took the pile and walked backwards towards the room, slowly closing the door shut.

He decided he’d rather not take a full-fledged bath, so he peeled off his mud-coated garbs and rinsed his hair and face off. The warm water felt good on his cut palms and knees and he sighed in relief before he looked in the mirror.

He saw himself. Himself and the black eye and broken lip his brother- no, Stephan had beaten onto him, and burst into tears again.

Once he had gained control of his emotions, he dried off, put on the new clothes and left the washroom.

“Well, besides the shirt barely staying on your shoulders, I suppose it’ll have to do, won’t it?”

“Yes.” Kurt said curtly.

As they headed back into the sanctuary, the man began asking questions again, “What is your name? Of course, you don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not-”

He hadn’t shown anything but kindness so Kurt gave him the benefit of the doubt. “Kurt.”

“Short for Konrad?”

“No. Just-” Kurt was somewhat taken aback by the question. Kurt was short for something??? “It’s only Kurt.”

“What are you doing out here all by yourself? Where is your family?”

Kurt knew if he hadn’t cried in the bathroom, he would start sobbing now in front of this stranger. “I don’t have one.” Realizing he had probably given the impression that he’d been living alone his entire life, he continued, “I thought I did, but today my br- someone told me that they only pitied me and they never actually cared about me.”

“Why would you believe that?”

“Because he told me that they aren’t my real family… my real mother abandoned me as soon as I was born. I think that proves that no one wants me, because-” his breath hitched, and he tried to compose himself, but could only pull his legs up to hide his face in his knees and whimper, “I feel like some kind of mistake. I know it every time I look in the mirror. I’ve never seen anyone that looks even a little bit like me.”

“Kurt, I can answer all the questions you’re wondering right now. Whether you decide to take them to heart is up to you.”

Kurt forgot about hiding his tears and turned to look at him intently.

“If you ever feel like you don’t have a family, you do- you’re part of the family of God. And you can always go to him with your troubles.”

“God?”

At this he almost seemed astonished. “Kurt, have you ever heard of God?”

“No,” Kurt shook his head.

A very large explanation sprinkled with many questions followed.

*

The sun had risen outside long ago.

“God made you exactly the way you are exactly as he planned you- you are anything but a mistake. He carefully thought out every detail about you.”

“With my hands and feet? My tail?!”

“All those things are amazing! You are especially extraordinary because you’re a mutant, Kurt.”

“A what?”

“It’s a bit more polite to say ‘pardon me’ but yes, have you ever heard the word?”

“No.”

“Well, it means you have a mutation-”

“You said that in the Bible, the Devil is the bad guy. I’m a devil.”

The priest was taken aback at this sudden change of direction. “Kurt, no! You’re not a devil!”

“I am though. In the circus, it’s my name. Nightcrawler, the demon, the devil boy.”

The priest was quiet for a while. “I am going to be honest with you, Kurt. You do resemble the idea people have of what a demon would look like. But you should never lower yourself to the expectations of others that you are a evil or a bad person. You’re a very, very good person.”

“Why would God make me look like this then?”

“I think God has incredible plans for you. Much bigger than those of others. I think he wants you to teach people to see others as they are and not what they look like. But it is your decision to follow his intended purpose for you. Do you understand?”

Kurt nodded.

At that moment the door slammed open. “Wow, lots of visitors tonight.” the clergyman muttered under his breath.

“Hello? I- KURT!” Margali began running up the aisle, soaked to the bone by the rain.

Kurt was already running for the opposite door.

“Kurt, wait!” she called desperately and Kurt looked back to see her face was not just wet because of the torrential downpour outside.

“Please, just, come talk to me…” she almost sounded like she was sobbing. “I was so scared you’d been hurt, or killed-” she stopped as she watched Kurt pause and walk towards her grimly and stop barely four feet from her.

Before either could think of anything else to say, Margali noticed the pastor for the first time and grabbed Kurt faster than Kurt could react and made a dash for the door.

“PUT ME DOWN!” the pure, unadulterated anguish in Kurt’s voice actually made Margali do just that.

“Kurt, we need to go! The circus is already leaving right at this moment!” Margali continually cast anxious glances at the priest like he’d stick a knife in Kurt or snatch him up just as quickly as she had.

“I don’t want to go with you.” Kurt mumbled.

“Kurt, your brother’s fine!-…and also in trouble…” she added thoughtfully, upon seeing the damage on Kurt’s face. “This is no time to be stupid, he was just lying to you.” Margali was obviously becoming exasperated.

Kurt now looked straight up into Margali’s stare indignantly.

“He wasn’t though, was he. I was only stupid for not realizing it sooner. I feel so dumb for thinking I was your kid.”

“That’s not true! You are!-”

“NO I’M NOT! I’m not! I’m not.” He threw his fists down at his sides and he dug his toes in the ground and his tail lashed so violently the spade slapped his hips. “My mom didn’t want me and you didn’t want me! I was just given to you and you pitied me enough to keep me! That doesn’t make me your son so stop it.”

At this point Margali was staring at him, mouth agape and fresh tears streaming down her face. All Kurt wanted to do now was hug her and apologize but the only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want to keep living this lie.

“Kurt… I’m sorry, I was, I was going to tell you, I just wanted to wait until you were a little older…”

“One day you were just gonna tell me that even though you considered me your son I could never mean as much to you as your own children…” Kurt’s eyes bubbled full of tears when he realized what he was saying. Of course he couldn’t mean as much to her. Margali had never meant to have another child. It wasn’t her fault. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…” he trailed off into silent tears.

“Kurt, I’m sorry your father- your father and mother didn’t- I’m really sorry, I really am sorry too, I’m sorry Kurt, I’m sorry baby…”

They held each other for a long time after that, Margalie apologizing to him for his progenitors over and over.

Eventually Kurt stood up, wiping his face on the sleeve that was at least a foot too long for his arm and turned to face the pastor.

“Thank you for everything. For explaining so much…”

The old man smiled. “Are you going to be okay?”

Kurt thought for a while before he gave a doleful smile in return. “Yeah. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Good. Regretfully, I think you have a difficult path ahead of you, Kurt, but that’s not to say it won’t be filled with blessings. I hope this helps you through everything.” He handed Kurt a leather bound book, smaller than the first thick copy he had shown Kurt verses in. “I imagine you don’t want much to carry with how much you travel, so this is just the new testament, it’s got the important stuff in it.”

Kurt beamed at him through watery eyes.

“And these are my own personal rosary beads. They’re abnormally large, so I think they’ll be easier to hold in your hands. They’re something you can always carry with you to pray over.” he finished, clarifying as Kurt examined them rather cluelessly. “Pray everyday, Kurt, talking to God everyday will give you strength.”

“...Thank you.”

The ancient reverend hugged Kurt and after a reluctant goodbye, Margali and Kurt headed back to the truck to catch up with the rest of the circus. On the way, she pulled Kurt into her lap to hold him while she drove and Kurt nuzzled into her neck, physically and emotionally exhausted.

“I love you, Kurt.”

“I love you too, Margali” he whispered.

Kurt never called Margali 'Mother' again.

 


	4. Nausea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IM FINALLY UPDATING ive gotten lots of nice comments so thank you everyone for that but i think to finish this up ill be posting most of the draft writings i had beforehand so it might not be as completely clean and well put together as stuff before but it should be fun yeah enjoy

As far as Margali could tell, Kurt possessed a sufficient immune system; she could only remember a small number of colds and fevers, and a small bout of pneumonia when she didn't know he had gone and played in the snow without any winter wear whatsoever. Other than that, her youngest son had made it through the first fourteen years of his life in full health.

But one day, in the middle of summer, Margali found herself sure he was going to die because her little mutant fell as ill as she'd ever seen someone fall ill.

While playing with three or four younger children, tumbling around and just about to perform a stupendous acrobatic feat for them, Kurt collapsed on the ground.

The children's shrieks of delight at his supposed silliness quickly became cries of fright when they realized he had lost consciousness.

Margali had no knowledge of any of this until one of the animal tamers carried him into the trailer. She completely forgot her annoyance at being interrupted from her dark sorcery when she saw Kurt's state.

"Did he fall?"

"No, of course not," The thought was near unthinkable with someone as deft as Kurt.  "No one knows what happened- he just... suddenly passed out."

This was more alarming than having an identified cause.

"Please, place him on the bed in the corner there- thank you so much for bringing him in..."

The lion tamer noted her implied dismissal and left.

Margali went through the emergency procedures she knew- the last thing she wanted to do was bring in a licensed doctor from outside the circus. She had yet to see an outsider’s- besides that priest’s - reaction to Kurt's individual appearance.

"Kurt!... Kurt, can you hear me?" His ears twitched and when he didn't respond any further she shook his shoulder forcefully.

His eyes slowly opened but she didn't need pupils to know his eyes weren't focused.

"Are you alright?-”

The words were barely out of her mouth when he shut his eyes tightly and, shoulders curling, body heaving, vomited before going completely lax again.

Margali's panic, like many of her emotions, came out sounding like anger. "Kurt!!! Say something!!! What's wrong with you?"

Kurt’s hand, drunk in its weakness, reached out for her and she took it, holding it in her lap, and stroked it.

He let out a groan, so quiet she barely heard it. "Margali,"

"Yes?"

"I feel… so terrible."

Still no explanation. "It's alright, I’ll be right here."

Margali quickly wrapped up and moved the soiled blanket aside to be dealt with as soon as she got Kurt some food and tonic.

 

But this was all for naught because his body was on the most severe hunger strike. Everything that reached his stomach was repelled in less than half an hour and things only got worse from then on. He could no longer stand any stimulation of his senses and Margali allowed no light, sound, or strong smells to reach him. Anything of the sort sent Kurt’s head spinning, thus more nauseous.

Margali had no idea what was going to happen him. He hadn’t eaten in days- soon he couldn’t sit up, and eventually he did not even shift in position to keep comfortable.

He’d been curled up in a fetal position for nearly two days. The only movement he made was the tiniest rise and fall of his torso. She feared that when she fell asleep she would awake to even that motion being gone. Needless to say, her trailer hadn’t been open to customers. Stephan and Jimaine had moved into friend’s cabins for the time being.

Since Kurt had still had no answer to what had caused this, nor could she think of something she had seen, she was trapped in obsessing why this was happening. Perhaps it was some kind of mutant pathogen, because despite the time Stephan and Jimaine had been near him, and how she had barely left his side, none of them had caught it. Now she felt like she could only wait. She was watching him die- no medicine or potions had changed anything The fact that he could hold no food, had barely held any water for that matter, made her doubt that his body could pull itself through this, or how he was even alive at this point.

On the eighth day of all the madness and confusion, when she ran out of even the most obscure idea, she accepted this fate to have him taken from her just as erratically as he had been given. She could not help a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

He had been a wonderful gift, a bizarre one, but wonderful nonetheless. His warm personality made everyone cherish his company, it was so easily to get along with him, she almost laughed as she wondered who had nurtured this nature in him, because it had certainly not been she.

He was so intelligent, in booksmarts and philosophy- neither of her other children enjoyed reading as much as he did and she loved to bring him any volumes she could find in the remote places of the world she traveled to, to watch him read them and tell her about the real great thinkers of history or fictional swashbuckling rogues of adventures, as often no one else would listen. Yet none of his books were as worn as the Bible the priest had given him all those years ago.

He had been a beauty as well, and he had been so young, she was only just watching him grow into his full potential. No man or creature in any dimension she had ever been through was close to moving with his grace and panache, he was a picture definition of elegance. It was near mesmerizing to watch him move. His fur was dark, but if shone in the light, silver on cobalt blue, and in perfect display when he ran a soft brush over it before a show. His tail moved smartly behind him at almost all times, even gently while he slept. His face was cut sharp, his cheekbones high and fair, but his face also held a perfect amount of gentle femininity necessary to make his countenance absolutely stunning. To not be able to see him grow to adulthood, she knew was a shame.

All this Margali thought as she sat and cried for the boy.

For hours, she stayed there, trying to keep track of his breathing, a few times losing it, but always returning just as she thought it was final. She was angry at the universe for this- angry at Kurt’s ‘God’ whom he was so loyal to- how could He drag his suffering out this long? He was cruel!

And then (perhaps this was God proving His “infinite grace” to Margali?), Kurt took a deep breath like he was coming up from a long swim underwater. He opened his eyes, lifted his head, and blinked at her as she stared back in shock.

“Muh,” he swallowed, getting his slurred voiced under control before he spoke. “Margali, were you crying? What’s wrong?”

Margali barely wondered for a moment if this was her dreaming from sleep deprivation before letting out a cry of delight and squeezing the boy against her.

“You’re ALIVE! Oh, you’ve been sick, you’ve been so sick, and I thought you were gone, I thought you were going to die!” She had meant to scold him for worrying her, but all she could express was relief.

“Oh… well,” Kurt looked down at himself, almost confused, but he found nothing different. “I think I’m better now.” He smiled his smile at her, the one that made her believe it was she who was the child who needed caring for, for he just simply glowed with compassion and caring.

She gasped. “You haven’t eaten or drank in days!” She didn’t even bother setting him down, instead she carried him, still curled in a ball, to the booth of their trailer and filled a glass of water for him.

“Was I gone somewhere?” Kurt asked her before she pushed the glass to his lips, forcing him to drink. With this, the drought of more than a week finally seemed to come back to him, and he finished off the whole glass.

She already had another ready for him before he asked for a refill, and she put packages of crackers and snacks in front of him to hold him over while she began to boil pasta. It all felt surreal, but she also knew it was real- Kurt really had pinked up right out of his unexplainable illness and now she was feeding him after sleeping for 8 days.

While the noodles cooked, she went outside to get Stephan and Jimaine and tell them the good news. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somewhere or another i read that kurt got really sick when his teleportation developed???? i dont know if it was a fic or an actual comic but i thought it was interesting

**Author's Note:**

> i just got inspired to write this during christmas break so i did it, i hope i can finish it all before i go back to school.  
> thank you to my friends who told me it was good.


End file.
